


my silent undoing

by yijeong



Category: GOT7
Genre: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Vomit Mention, anyways i love choi youngjae, lapslock, triggering obv, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:12:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yijeong/pseuds/yijeong
Summary: youngjae wished he could take a knife to strip away every inch of fat from his body, become like michaelangelo in the way he’d be carving bones from softness.if only it was that easy.





	my silent undoing

**Author's Note:**

> lax cramps are no joke yo
> 
> anyways youngjae is my mf  
> cinnamon apple and i, like ive  
> stated in my other vent fics,  
> am not condoning eds or trying  
> to imply he has one!! am just  
> coping :”)
> 
> title is a song by queen adreena idk  
> if it fits other than the fact its an ed  
> song but honestly im so uncreative w  
> titles!

the small apartment (house? lower floor? no one who lived there cared enough to put a specific name to this section of the two-story duplex on the outskirts of seoul, which desperately needed multiple renovations.) was painfully quiet as youngjae sat with knees pulled tight to his chest in front of his full length mirror, cracked at the lower left corner from a night he’d rather not recall.

he relished moments like this where he was the only one out of several boys home-  how they all managed to squeeze into the tiny first floor of the duplex was something he still wasn’t able to wrap his head around yet. privacy was barely a thing most days, it’s hard when you only have three cramped bedrooms (unless you’re lucky, like jaebum, who gets the smallest room to himself and always get the luxury of privacy.) 

but the quietness when the others were out just raised more problems for youngjae, allowing his darker thoughts to fill in every crevice of the empty space in the air around him. the lack of people also allowed him to indulge himself in his more self-destructive habits more freely, purging without attempting to cover up the nasty gagging sounds as they rang out in the bathroom, to practice choreographies in the open part of the house for hours until he collapsed in a pile on the floor, adrenaline rushing through his body as he shivered despite the sweat sticking to his skin. 

but tonight was a more bad night, with nothing to distract himself from the truth in front of him.

to say the brunette was irritated with himself was an understatement. slowly rising to his feet, he examined his scrawny body, clad in only ill-fitting boxers, with pure disgust etched across his features.

no matter how much he twisted and turned, bent and contorted and posed, youngjae couldn’t find satisfaction in it. his eyes traced each individual rib, the smooth dip of collarbones leading to just visible chest bones. he tried sucking his already sunken in stomach further, digging his palms into the space between his groin area and ribcage.

youngjae turned away from the mirror to twist his neck around in a rather uncomfortable fashion to catch a glimpse of his back. he scrutinized every single bone of his spine that stuck out, a sharp ridge that only stuck out more as he leaned forward.

and as he turned to his front again, he turned his judgemental gaze to his legs, two stick thin lines that stuck straight out of his narrow hips. all youngjae saw was fat and he gripped one of his thighs harshly, digging his nails into the flesh with an irritated huff of breath.

youngejae thoroughly did not understand how after all he did, how he could still be so disgustingly  _ fat. _ the word was permanently etched into his mind (and on the inner of his left thigh after a particularly insufferable binge-purge session) everytime he even caught a glimpse of his body.

he tried everything in the book, collected every tip and trick from every tacky pro-ana site (he didn’t believe in pro-ana necessarily, but who would he be to pass down such a treasure trove of free, easily accessible information?) and he was still dissatisfied with his body. he tried fasting until he couldn’t walk without waves of nausea and stars blotting his vision made things rather difficult, he tried purging every bite of food that passed his lips, which made for a rather good portion of wasted time that only lead to bruised knees, puffy cheeks, and a rather displeasing smell of puke that lingered on him no matter how often he rinsed his hands.

the latest attempt at weight loss was something youngjae swore up and down he’d never touch in his life. laxatives. in a rather risky, impulsive decision during a late night trip to walmart, he nervously shoved a packet of ducolax in his pocket as his heart raced and he made his way back to his friend, claiming he got distracted by something a few lanes back. if mark thought anything suspicious, he didn’t say anything.

youngjae didn’t take the first laxatives of his life until he got home at 4 in the morning, popping two tiny orange pills out of the shiny foil into his mouth. to his discomfort, he was woken up at 10 with horrible stomach cramps, nearly doubling over as he clutched his stomach.

that didn’t stop him from abusing them from then on.

but still, the disgusting layers of fat that blanketed his skeleton refused to budge and melt away, instead clinging onto his bones in a rather revolting manner. the more he stared at himself, the more  youngjae wished he could take a knife to strip away every inch of fat from his body, become like michaelangelo in the way he’d be carving bones from softness. 

_ if only it was that easy. _


End file.
